


Drowning, Floating

by Sethrine



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Light Angst, Medication, References to Depression, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethrine/pseuds/Sethrine
Summary: It feels like you're in a constant state of drowning, being pulled under by the sea. It's too much, always too much, and that's why you sought medication.You didn't want to pull anyone down with you.Luckily, someone gives you the strength to stay afloat.





	Drowning, Floating

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, decided to dip my toes into Detroit: Become Human this time around.
> 
> Here we go!

Tensions were a bit higher than usual at the precinct, and not without reason. The Android Deviancy case seemed to be a high topic of discussion amongst many during downtime. With the subtle shift in more deviant activity popping up around Detroit, many were concerned about the implications of possible hackers, somehow recoding the androids into acting out and killing their owners. Others believed it was a glitch in the system, an unseen error that Cyberlife must be trying to fix, lest things get even more out of hand. 

Then there were those like you, who believed that something _more_ was happening, something that was an inevitability as much as it was out of anyone's control. People like you, though, were a bit harder to come by, and often mocked for your way of thinking. 

It was the cruelality of humankind, and you understood it well. 

"Agent (L/n), may I ask a personal question?" 

You looked up abruptly, forgetting momentarily that you had seated yourself at Connor's desk as he waited patiently for Hank to show up, late as usual. The area was completely bare of any personal touches, save for a small, ceramic figurine standing in the furthest corner, a gift given by you several weeks prior. 

Connor had told you once that, being an android himself, such things were unnecessary, as he held no personal attachment to anything. Regardless, you had gifted him with the figurine of a man, clothed in a beige trenchcoat and hiding the bottom half of his face below the tall collar. Mysterious and interesting, much like the android it reminded you of. 

"Oh! Um, yeah, go for it," you answered, perking up a bit from your previous thoughts. Connor was very curious for an android, something that would have struck some people as odd, but you liked the quirk. It made him unique, interesting...more human. 

"Why do you take anti-depressants?" 

Your eyes widened at the question, a deep seated feeling of unease surfacing in the pit of your stomach. It was the feeling of being caught, though you weren't doing anything wrong to begin with. It wasn't exactly a secret, your struggle with depression, but it also wasn't something anyone really knew. You were sure Hank had his suspicions, but hadn't said anything on the matter. 

It took a moment for you to register Connor's curious, patient gaze, a moment longer to collect your nerves at the sudden invasion of privacy. 

"How do you know about that?" 

"You have a prescription you keep in your purse. You take it every morning with half a bottle of water and wait approximately forty-five minutes before drinking your morning coffee. I noticed the label and concluded it was an anti-depressant with an eighty-four percent success rate in young adults." 

"That's...good to know," you said slowly, giving Connor an odd look. "You do know what they're prescribed for, yes?" 

"Of course." 

"Then why ask me about them?" 

Connor seemed to freeze up at the question, the blue L.E.D. at his temple flashing and turning yellow. He was thinking, analyzing the question and coming up with an answer that most likely seemed suitable to him and the situation. 

"I...am unsure," he answered simply, seeming just as confused as before. "I've gathered data through scans of your work desk as well as through your mannerisms. While I have noticed small moments of grief and melancholic sympathy over victims in our cases, I cannot diagnose any reasoning behind your need for anti-depressants." 

"That's good," you said, relief flooding your system. Again, it wasn't necessarily a secret, but everyone had a sort of reputation they liked to uphold, and it was nice to know that there weren't any extreme outward signs that your usual kind and open demeanor was being affected by your silent illness. 

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Connor's L.E.D. flickered minutely in his confusion, his gaze alone asking for clearer answers. So expressive, for an android who claimed to be nothing but a machine built to complete a task. 

A sigh escaped your lips. 

"You have to promise me you won't bring it up to anyone. _No one,_ Connor. Not the director, not my partner, not even Hank." 

Connor, for his part, looked almost eager to comply. He would be learning something no one else knew about, after all, and he was particularly keen on learning all he could about the people he worked with. 

"You have my word, Agent (L/n)." 

Another rush of air left your lungs as you mentally prepared yourself to explain, closing your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts. When you opened them, Connor was waiting just as patiently as before, brown eyes seemingly soft and receptive. 

"It's...hard to explain, if you've never felt it. But it's...it's almost like being lost, alone in a crowd of people who know you, who you know. I see these faces, these people I call friends and family; I smile and laugh, I build them up and give my all to them. But, it's not me. It's not-" 

You stopped abruptly, feeling the tightening in your throat and the fast, prickling pain of tears beginning to blur your sight. Connor's L.E.D. fluctuated yet again, flashing from yellow to red in short measures. His lips were downturned, and he genuinely seemed upset for your sake. It only served to make the burn of your eyes stronger, allowing the first tear to escape and trickle down your cheek. 

"I'm doing these things, but it doesn't feel like _me_ at all." 

You wiped at your eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. 

"I feel like I'm in a constant state of drowning in my own thoughts and emotions. I used to see a therapist; he told me I was empathic almost to an extreme. He said I have so much to feel that I'm not able to process it all properly, and it only pulls me further down. That's why I take medication. It helps me think and process what I feel without pulling me out to sea. Metaphorically speaking." 

"I did not intend to upset you," Connor said quietly after a pause. You couldn't help but notice the way his fingers clutched at the fabric of his slacks as you once again rid your sight of tears. You gave a short chuckle along with a sniffle. 

"No, no, it's alright. Ever since I quit seeing a therapist, I haven't had anyone to talk to about this stuff. It feels good to get it off my chest." 

Connor's gaze turned quizzical once more, head tilting ever so slightly to the side. 

"Isn't it imperative for your health to continue seeing a liscenced psychiatrist while on anti-depressants?" 

"Maybe. Not everyone with depression visits a therapist." 

"Why did you stop?" 

You stared at Connor for a long moment, feeling your heart almost lurch at the question. It took several deep breaths to keep yourself calm and collected, to keep anymore unnecessary tears from reaching the surface. 

"Because I don't want to pull anyone under with me." 

Yellow and red flickered at Connor's temple in tandem for all of five seconds before the flickering tampered out into a steady yellow glow. It faded into its usual blue hue not but a few moments later. You smiled at the change. 

"Hey, (Y/n)! Get your ass over here, we got a case." 

You turned toward your partner and gave an affirmative, standing from your seat and smiling softly down at Connor. 

"Thank you," you said softly, "and sorry I put all of that on you." 

"You merely answered my questions. It was...unnecessary for me to pry as I did and upset you." 

"Sometimes it's good to pry," you spoke with a smile as you backed away. "It means you care." 

You turned completely and moved across the floor toward your partner, only partially aware of Connor watching your leave. It was at that moment that Hank made himself known, slapping a hand down on the android's shoulder and very nearly startling him...if he could startle. 

"Oh, good afternoon, Leuitenant Anderson." 

"Mind telling me what the hell that was all about?" Hank questioned, head tilting in your direction as a brow quirked up. Connor merely blinked, keeping quiet so as not to disclose any information. Hank scoffed, scratching at his head as he moved to his desk. 

"Fine, fine, whatever. Keep your fucking secrets. So long as it doesn't involve this case, I don't care." 

Hank sat heavily in his chair, heaving a sigh and leaning his head against his hand as if nursing a mild headache, most likely from one too many drinks the previous night. When he looked back over at Connor, it was to the sight of the android staring off across the room. Narrowing his eyes, Hank followed Connor's gaze to find that it had gone back to you as you talked with your partner and scanned over some documents. 

"You alright, kid?" 

"I'm fully functional, yes," Connor remarked as his gaze turned to Hank, who couldn't keep from rolling his eyes. He was surprised when Connor continued, however. 

"May I ask you a question, Leuitenant Anderson?" 

"Always with the questions," Hank groaned, throwing his arm up in acquiescence. "Go on, then, out with it." 

"Do you know of any shops nearby that are likely to sell floatational devices?" 

Hank stared for a long moment, at a loss for what to say. 

"What the hell do you need that for?" 

\--- 

The next day had you feeling lighter than you'd felt in months. Even with the case you were assigned and the numerous files you had scoped through the night before, you couldn't help but smile just a bit wider that morning as you entered the precinct. 

Connor was already waiting for Hank at his desk, having already logged into his terminal and opened a paper file, though seemingly doing nothing more. He turned as you moved closer, his smile just on the side of lopsided. It was endearing to see. 

"Good morning, Agent (L/n)." 

"Good morning, Connor," you greeted kindly, brushing your hand against his shoulder as you did every morning on your way to your own desk. "I'll be over in just a moment." 

You moved toward your desk, unaware of Connor's intense stare following you, and sat down. You placed your purse underneath and beside your leg, reaching in and taking out your medication. After taking one pill, a swig of water before downing half the bottle, and a short sigh of finality at having completed your morning routine, you reached out across your desk, ready to sign in. 

You paused abruptly, eyes and fingers settling on a small object sitting at the base of your monitor. You picked it up and studied it with wide eyes, taking in the round shape and simple red and white pattern along it, a string dangling from a tiny loop of metal screwed into the top. 

It was a little ceramic buoy, one similar to those that life guards used at the beach. It seemed weirdly out of place to find it on your desk, as you had never gotten a souvenir from your last trip to the beach over five months ago. No one else had anything like it at the office, as far as you had seen, so maybe someone had gotten it for you as a gift? At the end of October, as well, which struck you as odd when it was literally- 

A quiet gasp escaped your lips as you turned the rounded ceramic in your hand, eyes reading over neat, perfect handwriting, each letter evenly spaced and without flaw. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the words, eyes almost watering at the clear message being given. 

You chanced a glance over at Connor, who you had just caught glancing away and down at the paper file on his desk, fingers fiddling with the paper inconspicuously. You couldn't help the wide grin that found its way to your lips, a small, relieved chuckle escaping you. 

With gentle fingers, you gripped the string attached to the figurine, patting the loop and carefully placing it on the corner of your screen. Giving it a slight tug to make sure it wouldn't suddenly fall, you then flipped the buoy around to display the message, missing the warm smile being sent your way at the genuine happiness the gift provided you. 

_'TO KEEP YOU AFLOAT. -C'_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for your continued support in all that I do. Let me know what you thought of this and if you'd like to see more from D:BH!
> 
> As always, see ya around!


End file.
